The Yinzers with the Blue Eyes
by ClaptonJr
Summary: Jonas, almost dead, finds a cabin at the bottom of the hill. There, he finds people not unlike him and is accepted as one of their own. He left his memories to help his community, but did it all work out? Jonas, along with his new friend A.J., decide to go back to check on the situation. Reaction to their arrival is much different than anticipated... Jonas/Fiona
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jonas, still carrying Gabe, stumbled up toward the lights. He could see now that there were about a dozen of them. Squinting throw the blinding snow, he could make out two cabins. One was smaller than his own dwelling, and was made of wood and bricks. The other one, maybe twice his home's size, was comprised of layered rock, large strips of wood, and a glass façade. It was filled with people, all sounding happy. There was a Christmas Tree and lights and ribbons were strung up everywhere. Minus the Christmas tree, it reminded him of his old home.

_No, Jonas. Precision of language. Home is the place you live, filled with family and love._ Jonas searched for the right word. _My old home… is just a house. Yeah. Just a house._

Summoning his last reserved energy, Jonas stumbled up to the door. He managed to knock twice, then collapsed onto the ground near the door.

His first conscious feeling was that of warmth. He slowly opened his eyes and shifted his head. He was laying on a couch on his right side, and was looking towards a hearth. It was made of cobblestone and laced with bronze. Above it was a… _wreath_, Jonas remembered. _A Christmas wreath._

He heard music. He recognized the song. It was, um, hmm. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Moving his arm, he rolled himself over and sat up. He noticed another boy, about a Thirteen, sitting opposite him in a leather recliner. He had Jonas's pale blue eyes and blond hair. He was holding something…_ guitar_, Jonas remembered. It had a beautiful color scheme, gold in the center, and orange, red, and black in thin stripes around the sides. Almost like a _sunset_, Jonas thought. He was playing music. The boy looked up.

"Ah. You's up afta ahl." He got up, lifted the strap up from around his neck. He pulled the guitar over his head and set it down on the chair. Moving over towards Jonas, he said, "Yinz ain't from here, ain't ya?"

Jonas looked around. He noticed the colors were not fleeting. They all stayed.

"Uhh, no, I's ain't." Jonas tried. The boy smiled.

"Don't norm'ly tahlk like that, do ya," laughed the boy. Jonas shook his head. "I'm ahlready wearin' off on ya. It ain't been two minutes."

The boy extended his hand. "I'm A.J."

"Jonas," our friend replied.

"Welcome, Receiver of Memory."

Jonas stared at him, his mouth forming an O. How did A.J. know he was the receiver?

"Das right. You're the receiver." Jonas could not form words.

"Yinz gonna say some'm, or ya want a tonsillectomy?"

Jonas's mouth showed a small smile. "Well, yes, I am the receiver. How'd you know?"

Dodging the question, the boy said, "I've a question about your memories." _He ignored me,_ Jonas thought. _How rude. Then again, he was raised different._

"You're prob'ly thinkin' 'bout hah I'm ahl rude," the boy said. "Us Yinzers don't worry 'bout rude here."

_Wow,_ thought Jonas. _He read my mind._

"Nah don't go thinkin' I read ya mind or nuttin'," continued the boy, "I'm just curious."

Jonas noticed that his speech pattern included pronouncing words like down as dahn. _Must be his accent_, Jonas thought.

"So, 'd'ya learn 'bout before the Sameness yet? Well, we ain't got none. You rode dahn de hill." The boy sat on _the coffee table_ in front of Jonas's couch. Mum and Dad're Receivers from awhiles back. They escaped da communities with der true mums 'n' dads. Yinz know about Birthmothers, right? And about selected Birthfathers?"

Jonas shrugged.

"An' you ain't had the talk yet either, huh?"

A.J. knew the answer from the blank look on Jonas's face.

"Oooh. You's in fuh it. Jus' wait till you get a girl!"

A.J. looked over Jonas. "Ah tell ya what. You sleep. I'm goin' back out with my family. Ya need some'n, just yell. Nice meetin' you," he added as an afterthought. A.J. promptly left the room.

_You know, if home wasn't so bland, I might go back_, Jonas thought. _People here are exhausting_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**(A/N: Beware of crude humor! Younger viewers may be disturbed.)**

Jonas pulled himself up off the couch. He had already slept enough. It's time to explore, Jonas decided. Looking around, he noticed that the room he was in had wood-paneled walls. There was a fireplace to the left of the recliner. Ten feet away from that was a satin black piano. Its angular top was propped up, exposing the strings. Jonas headed towards it. Inside, where the strings should be, was a fish tank. Jonas counted 18 fish through the crystal clear water. Spotting what we know to be an angelfish, he reached in to touch it.

"Nah, don'tcha be hurtin' Archie," said A.J., reappearing in the doorway.

"Sorry, I- I dropped something in there," Jonas lied. Instantly he regretted it. These people might have a different strategy on lying. "I wasn't trying to hurt your fish," Jonas stuttered.

A.J. crossed his arms, casting a menacing glare in Jonas's direction, who shivered. All of a sudden, A.J.'s demeanor completely changed. He was smirking, and his hands relaxed at his sides.

"Screw the fish! They're my sister's!" he laughed, walking over to Jonas. "And you suck at lyin'. Luck'ly, we ain't nuttin' alike." Jonas looked at him like he was crazy. Meanwhile, A.J. walked over to Jonas's right and leaned over the edge of the fishtank. "You need ta chill, man. I's jus' jaggin'." (means teasing/kidding/etc.) "And Archie's the piano. What kinda jagoff names a fish?"

"Is this your piano?" Jonas asked, trying for conversation.

"Dis whole room's," A.J. replied, effectively killing the conversation.

"Did your parents give it to you?"

"Nah, I took it. Sooner vers' later ya gotta take back your own from an oppressive government." A.J. laughed heartily, while Jonas thought miserably about Fiona and Asher. Mostly Fiona. Wait, huh?

"D' I pluck a nerve there?" A.J. asked. Jonas looked at the floor, unable to respond.

"Money says yea," said A.J., answering himself.

"I teyya what. C'mon aht ta the livin' room. I's doin' ma stand-up comedy in a few." A.J. bounced out of the room.

Sighing, Jonas followed him out to the living room, but walked into the door. The crash was so loud, it brought a yellow golden retriever from a nearby room. _Dog_, Jonas remembered.

It barked at him, then held its head at an angle. It seemed to say, "What the heck?"

"It isn't my fault! It's Fiona's," groaned Jonas. He walked past the dog, holding his head.

Once Jonas had made his way to the living room, he found the party atmosphere had died. People were sitting in large round chairs, all looking at the rectangular table in the center of the room. Jonas sat down at one of them closest to the rectangular table.

A.J. walked in, and jumped on the table. He was wearing his jeans and flannel short sleeved shirt as before, but this time he was carrying a microphone. He tapped on it twice.

"Hiya, folks. Hah yinz doin'?" he greeted. The crowd of about twenty-five laughed and cheered, greeting him. He said, "Nah this is a very special Christmas for ahl'a us. Look what showed up on the doorstep. Jonas, get on up here." A.J. smiled, beckoning him up onto the table. Jonas climbed up onto it.

"Say hello to the people, Jonas," A.J. said, gesturing with the microphone.

"Hello," Jonas said. Then A.J. told him to sit back down.

"Nah, I'd like to start my speech by noting that Jonas was a Receiver-in –training. He left to help his community." The crowd looked at Jonas with respect.

"Anywho," continued A.J., "tha's one of the most generous things I's ever heard. That's the true Christmas spirit; people being helped by people other than me."

Chuckles rippled through the crowd.

"But I would like to give a shoutout to all those adults who go through all that stress to find the right card to go with the right present. We, as kids, think of Christmas as a time to accumulate random crap. Oh! That must be why the septic tank overflowed last Christmas."

Jonas, like most others, laughed openly.

"It's sort of like Halloween. The first time you hear of it as a kid, it's too much to handle. '_They're giving out wha_-? I'll do anything! Ohh. Wear that… Okay, fine." A.J. shared a smirk with the crowd.

"And speaking of Halloween, didn't you always hate them cheap rubber bands on them masks? I mean, they always dig into the skin, and they're always loose, and hanging below he mask, ya know…"

Jonas laughed. When the Giver gave him memories of holidays, Halloween had been one of his favorites. He was happy he was fortunate enough to know what they were talking about.

"Once, I had to tie up the elastic where it was hooked on behind the mask." A.J. gestured with his hand, showing what happened. "But it wouldn't stay. I had to tie a clove hitch to get it to stay. And I was unfortunate enough for the elastic to be red. It stuck out in front of my left ear, looked like I had a ginormous pimple." Raucous laughter echoed through the dining hall.

"In fact, this old lady gasped when she saw me. She hustled me into the bathroom, held my head over the toilet, and dumped peroxide all over my head." He paused. "I don't know if it was supposed to be a trick, but it sure wasn't a treat."

Some of the adults were hysterical with laughter.

"But back to Christmas. I mean, for a kid, gifts are what make December 25 significant. I can't tell you how many times my great aunts and uncles didn't give my presents. 'Oh, sonny,' they'd say, 'family is the best present of all.' Okay. _Sure_.

"And all those clothes? Those presents were even worse than none. I mean, clothes aren't _bad_. But they never fit. And how Aunt Linda always gave me underwear? Yeesh. Why would I want tighty-whities? 'Cause for young men like me, we-"

"Men want the same thing from their underwear that they want from women: a little bit of support, but still a little bit of freedom."

Some of the people were rolling on the floor with laughter.

"But regardless of your underwear type-" A.J. made a theatrical face- "Merry Christmas, everybody!" He smiled and waved to the crowd, and jumped off.

**(A/N: Thanks to Jerry Seinfeld for some of the jokes! **

**Review, please! I just got my first review and I'm basking in my glory. **

**Shoutout to Bindiyaglo:**** Yes, it's funny. If you want more, go to YouTube and type in Pittsburgh dad. It's probably the most accurate representation of the stereotype Pittsburgher. XD!)**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A.J. came off the stage, but did not sit down near Jonas. Instead, he sat down someplace close to the glass wall. Jonas followed.

But when Jonas go t to where A.J. was sitting, there were three A.J.s sitting there.

"Hiya doin'!" said one of the A.J.s.

"You're Jonas, right?" said the other.

"A.J. said that, jagoff," yelled the first.

"Nah girls, you're both pretty. Stahp fightin'," quipped the third A.J.

Both of the other A.J.s glared at the third, who Jonas assumed was the real A.J.

"Jonas, these are my brothers, Roger and Robin. We're triplets," said the real A.J.

"I'm Roger," both boys said at once. They looked at each other.

"You better stop, Robin!" yelled one.

"You should, Robin!" yelled the other.

"Argh!" Within second the boys were in a tangled heap on the floor. A.J. looked at Jonas with remorse. Below them, Roger #1 was beating the heck out of Roger #2. A.J. jumped on top of his brothers, squashing them.

"Now," explained A.J., dusting himself off, Roger is the one with the blue T-shirt on. Robin is the one with the longer hair."

"I might not have any left soon. Roger was pulling fistfuls of it," griped Robin.

"Yeah, but you kicked in my groin!" moaned Roger. "Now I won't have kids!"

"I ain't've if you respected your elders!" yelled Robin.

"We're brothers! You ain't older 'n' me!"

"I most cert'nly am! By three minutes!"

"A.J.," came a small voice from the side. " 'R' our brothers being stupid again?" Jonas looked to see a young girl, younger than Fiona but older than Lily.

"Oh, she's Josephine. We call 'er Jo," A.J. said. He smiled proudly. "I taught her everything she knows. Now, Jo. It's close to 11:00. You need to get into bed. Remember, Santa won't stop if you aren't asleep."

"But can't I stay up for the singing? You and the 'R's are playing this year."

A.J. sighed. "Yes. Two songs. No more."

"Yea-ya!" Jo shrilled. Jonas winced at her decibel level. She could be heard for miles.

The house where Jonas was staying was pretty large. Looking from top down, it was mostly rectangular, but the back looked like a seismic fault. An overhanging layer of wood, insulation, and shingles was cut diagonally on the open end, creating a contrasting look. The base layer of granite rock tiles was skewed, and two piles of rock graced either side of the stairs leading down from the center of the enclosed patio. The patio itself had a floor of mosaic tiles. Around the small tiles were gel beads, a small detail Robin made sure was included.

_"No man thinks about gel beads," chastised an eight-year old Roger._

_"Not a manly comeback on your part," retorted Robin._

_"What, 're yinz two fightin' over a Y chromosome? 'Da way yinz fight, ya both need one!" yelled A.J., lounging on a nearby chair._

Anyway, the patio was fully heated and ventilated in the winter. That was good because a small pool was situated in the center of the room. It was eight feet deep on the one side, and four feet on the other. The pool was fed by warm water that was pumped from the hot-water tank. The pipes ran through the floors, cleverly heating the tiles. They also heated the saturated cork wood around the pool. Cork is supposed to good for your feet, back, and hips. (Also imagined by Robin.)

Around the pool, furniture was situated alongside the walls. The chairs faced the pool. In front of the chairs, there were small pools connected to the hot-water pipes. When the brother's Grandma was still alive, she would watch the kids in the pool while dipping her feet into her own.

(Another Robin idea.)

The walls were Jessica's idea. Jessica was the boys' older sister of three years. The wall was two feet thick and four feet tall. The lowest foot of the wall was made up of the same granite layering of the rest of the house. But for the three feet above that, only the outer half of the wall was granite. The inner 3-ft. high half was glass, and was another of Jessica's prized fish collections. Above that, hinging glass panels measuring 5 feet wide and six feet tall were placed around the patio. Two adjacent ones formed the upper left and right walls. The corners were shaped like Corinthian columns. Then, working inward, two 5'x8' panels of glass that hinged upward were placed. Then, in the center, were two doors made of glass framed by cherry wood.

Through an archway leading to the house, you go across a glassed-in walkway suspended two feet off of the ground. In the summer, the area below and around it is fenced in and is full of flowers.

Entering the main house, the glass hallway becomes an aquarium. The ceiling, right wall, and even the floor is glass containing fish. The left side's aquarium is only three feet tall, so the room to the left is open. The hallway so thin only one can pass through at a time. A large kitchen to is your right and a living room is to the left. The kitchen's wall is much the same as the patio's, and also has a cork floor for those who stand there for hours a day. A large window faces toward the patio and allows sunlight to come in. The wall on the hallway side is an aquarium, too.

The living room is boxed in except for the hallway entrance. Entering the fish-walled room, you would notice that the wall facing you is black. It is actually a large TV, powered by an outdoor generator. To the left and right of the entrance are three-seat leather couches. The rear walls are nonexistent, replaced by the three-foot aquarium. The right wall is another aquarium, extending the whole area of the wall. The left side is a piece of seamless glass, fifteen feet tall and twenty feet long. It extends over the whole left wall. Two metal-and-glass tables stand in front of the couches.

Why am I telling you all of this? It will be vital to the family's survival later in the story.

**A/N: Hello, folks. Sorry, but this is mostly a filler/description chapter. Next time, the brothers play a song, people celebrate Christmas, and Jonas learns a little bit about his old community. **

**When A.J. says they're fighting over a Y chromosome, he's implying they fight like girls. Girls have two X chromosomes, and boys have one X and one Y.**

**Keep the reviews flowing. I'll take anything. Praise, constructive criticism, anything.**

**Just nothing mean about me. Or what I wrote. Those are kind of like my buttons. :P.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Proceeding through the fish-filled hallway toward the front of the house, you would approach an intersection of hallways looking like a T. In front of you, the floor drops out, with only a railing to stop you. The opening leaves space on each side, but is still about 30' square. On each of the four corners there is a spiral staircase, which opens at the back and front sides. In the center, reached by bridges, is a small elevator, framed in black marble with glass sides. It takes you down four stories, just as far as the staircase.

The hallway running left to right leads toward the living quarters. Each hallway continues toward the outside of the house, then makes a sharp 90 degree turn towards the front of the house. Each hallway at this point has a large amount of windows, almost like the promenade aboard a ship. They hinge from the top and can be folded outward. Usually, however, they are bolted shut.

Assuming you turned left or right at the intersection, you are now in the bedroom area. If you turned left, the long expanse of fishtank on the left is the wall to the living room. Then the first door on the left is a bedroom. The next is a bathroom. Then there is another bedroom. That is as far as the hallway goes before it turns right.

The other side is very similar. There is a fishtank wall to the right, partitioning the kitchen. Then bedroom, bathroom, bedroom. The hallways run on the first floor all the way to the dining room and foyer at the front. They enclose a large amount of space.

Jonas and the triplets headed down the left promenade, or the right if you are looking from the back. They approached the stairwell. Jonas went towards the stairs close to him on his right, but Roger pulled him back.

"We's takin' the elevator," he said. Jonas remembered _elevator _from a memory in a _mall. _The quartet walked over the side bridge to the elevator. "Amphitheater," said A.J. The glass doors slid open, and the boys stepped in.

Jonas had seen many elevators in the memories, but never one as nice as this. The windows fit seamlessly together on the inside of the glass. They were framed by stainless steel wire possessing intricately carved designs. The ceiling, to conceal the mechanics, held yet another aquarium.

There were no buttons, either. Just four glass walls, an aquarium, marble pillars, and one very loud family.

"Is everything in here made of fish?" Jonas asked, looking at the ceiling.

"Nah," said Robin.

"We aren't," huffed Roger sarcastically. Robin looked at him menacingly.

The tension between the two brothers was tangible. Trying to avoid eye contact, Jonas looked down at his shoes, and realized he had missed one detail.

The floor was made of glass, and it looked like a long fall…

"AH!" Jonas yelped, and backed out of the center of the floor.

"Wuh yinz relax?" spat A.J. "It's two inches thick! You could support Mrs. Wolowitz in here!"

The other boys chuckled. Jonas, however, was confused.

"Aw, Jonas! You've never seen the Big Bang Theory? It's hilarious!" said Robin enthusiastically.

"We oughta take ya upta the media room sumtime," said Roger.

The Rs looked at each other, surprised they agreed on something. They rode the final two-story descent in silence. Soon, the glass doors slid open again, and the four walked over another low bridge. It was over a circular stone pond, with… more fish.

But the room was more than a foyer. Four palm trees were placed in four in-ground planters. Looking towards the walls of the cubic stairwell perpendicularly, the trees were at a 45 degree angle. Water trenches two feet wide connected the trees in a square. Open patches of earth split the floor parallel to the square's sides, feeding ferns, flowers, small trees, wild plants, and many other flora. It gave the stairwell a rich, moist, earthy smell.

"I like it down here," Jonas said.

"Yeah. Gramps built it five years ago. You know, we're actually forty feet underground?"

"Hmm," murmured Jonas, busy observing how his voice echoed.

"It was Jessica's favorite place before she died," Robin said. Everyone was quiet for a moment, leaving no noise except the soft purring of a nearby fountain.

"Come on," said Roger. "We shouldn't be late."

They proceeded towards a three set of double doors.

A.J., sporting a wry smile, said, "Anyone want to tell Jonas what-"

Roger opened his mouth, but Robin replied first. "In here is an amphitheater," he interrupted.

"I was gonna say that!"

"Too bad. I said it first."

Again, the boys were in a tumbled heap on the floor.

"Please," drawled A.J. "If yinz hurt yourselves y'ain't performin'." They promptly got up.

"So," said Jonas, when the boys were off the floor. "Are you like the boss of them?"

"Testified!" acknowledged A.J.

They walked into the amphitheater, which was positioned directly under the rear part of the house. The auditorium had about ten rows of sixteen seats each. The boys' family, friends, and relatives greeted them with a standing ovation. Jonas smiled and waved at them, but inwardly he was sad no one in the crowd was here for him.

"Buck up," said A.J. through his teeth. Still holding a smile, he said, "You're as qualified as the best of us, Jonas. You're always welcome here."

They walked up onto the stage, while Jonas sat down in the first row next to Jo. Robin bounced over to the microphone on the stand, and Roger picked up a bass guitar. He headed to the right side of the stage, or Jonas's left. Upon seeing him in the first row, he gestured adamantly for Jonas to come onto the stage. When he came up, Roger grabbed his hand and held it above their heads, in a gesture of victory. The crowd cheered.

"Nice bass," Jonas shouted over the cacophony.

"I knah. I call 'er Lucky. I got 'er a few years ago. 'ave a look!" He pulled his bass over his head and banged it into the ceiling. The headstock hit, and the strings vibrated loudly, emitting feedback through the amplifier. The crowd held their ears, and Jonas could see Jo wincing in particular.

"On second thought," said Roger, "Remind me to never show you Lucky again."

Just then, A.J. came out of the wings. "What the hell was that?! I was tuning' up, and that-" -he gestured to Roger-"-happened! You scared the crap out of Scarlet! And, a string broke!"

"Who's Scarlet?" asked Jonas.

"It's my green Les Paul! And it's a Gibson, too! I swear, that string could've nicked the paint and ruined my beautiful Scarlet! Then what would I have done!?"

"You could try calling it Nikki," interjected Robin. "Get it? It's nicked?"

"Ha-ha," he replied. "Let's get this over with."

Jonas leaned up against the back wall, and watched as the song started.

"Alraht, people. Fatha' Chris'mas, by the Kinks." A.J. hustled into the intro riff, and the song began.

_When I was small I believed in Santa Clause_

_Though I knew it was my dad_

_And I would hang up my stocking at Christmas_

_Open my presents and I'd be glad_

_But the last time I played Father Christmas_

_I stood outside a department store_

_A gang of kids came over and mugged me_

_And knocked my reindeer to the floor_

_They said:_

_"Father Christmas, give us some money_

_Don't mess around with those silly toys._

_We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over_

_We want your bread so don't make us annoyed_

_Give all the toys to the little rich boys_

_"Don't give my brother a (?) outfit_

_ Don't give my sister a cuddly toy_

_ We don't want a jigsaw or monopoly money_

_ We only want the real McCoy_

_"Father Christmas, give us some money_

_ We'll beat you up if you make us annoyed_

_ Father Christmas, give us some money_

_ Don't mess around with those silly toys_

_"But give my daddy a job 'cause he needs one_

_ He's got lots of mouths to feed_

_ But if you've got one, I'll have a machine gun_

_ So I can scare all the kids down the street_

_"Father Christmas, give us some money_

_ We got no time for your silly toys_

_ We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over_

_ Give all the toys to the little rich boys_

_Have yourself a merry merry Christmas_

_Have yourself a good time_

_But remember the kids who got nothin'_

_While you're drinkin' down your wine_

_"Father Christmas, give us some money_

_ We got no time for your silly toys_

_ We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over_

_ We want your bread, so don't make us annoyed._

The crowd stood up and cheered loudly. The triplets bowed, Robin walked off, Roger and Lucky followed him, and so did A.J. But then he stopped, and walked back towards Jonas.

"Listen, Jonas, like I said, you're welcome here. But don't you ever go near Scarlet."

He jumped off the stage, leaving Jonas still standing there.

**Hello folks! 1,638 words in under two hours! Pretty good time. I'm typing a new chapter every day, and it's a lot of hard work getting ideas and putting them on paper. If you don't review, I'm just gonna stop writing. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.**

**Also, Bindiyaglo:**

**Thank you so much for the advice. I don't want this taken down before I get **cough** at least ten reviews. For those who might report this for having microscopic flaws, go waste your time in Cleveland. You'll help the good people out a lot.**

**No offense, Clevelanders. I was raised in Pittsburgh. That's how I am.**

**Mahalo!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

This is just a chapter to address my readers.

To Bindiyaglo: Yes, Asher will be coming up soon. Keep in mind, I have to manage this story on all ends. I can't just have people falling from the sky. Katharine will appear in or around chapter nine. The elders of the community, in an effort to preserve order, try and force the memories onto her. The Giver, of course, will work her escape. Fiona, Lily, and the other characters will not appear for a while. Jonas rode for weeks, so there's always going to be a delay when something learns about it, or vice versa. All of our friends are going to escape the oppression, but _yinz_ all have to wait for it.

As for Chuckydoll, well, he's not a redneck. He just talks with a Pittsburgh accent. I had to let some of my heritage escape the sameness. Otherwise, what would make this story unique?

And no, I didn't grow up in a big fancy lodge dug into the side of a hill in the woods. But such a setting is going to be extremely important around chapter 25. Yes, I got this whole thing planned out, and it's gonna be a marathon. I just gotta write it down.

But the fact that little technological advance has occurred since sameness is an interesting thought. Keep in mind that when the community functions and a workaday routine for hundreds of years, yes, things advance. But the margin for growth eventually limits the amount it can work so it will not compromise the community's existing structure. Other creating a sameness, finding a way to transmit memories, and playing keep-away with some of our genes, we have most of the technology to create a community where everything is colorless, similar, managed, and controlled. All we need are plenty of good secretaries in Washington.

But technology wouldn't advance under conditions in this novel. Everybody has enough to go on, the levels of which are carefully controlled. But even the chief elders, who do the controlling, have no idea of how things once were. That is why they have a Receiver, which is the basis for the book. But without the Receiver being able to tell others, the leadership has reached an impasse.

Without Jonas, things wouldn't have changed. At least not until a Jonas archetype comes along.

Thanks for tuning in every day. Your support and attention is much appreciated.

-ClaptonJr.

Jonas slept soundly that night, but that didn't stop him from dreaming about his friends back in the community. In his dream, he walked over the bridge leading to the town. The townspeople had gathered in the central plaza, and a banner reading "Welcome home Jonas!" was hung between two buildings. He went over and hugged his family, shook hands with Asher, and proceeded to Fiona. He looked into her eyes, and-

CRASH!

An extremely loud, harsh noise jarred him from his sleep, and knocked him onto the floor.

"It's ahright, people," a voice shouted.

Stomping was heard throughout the house, as one very angry A.J. burst into the room above him.

"What the hell?" A.J. exclaimed. "You broke my guitar!? You miserable…"

Jonas winced as he heard a long line of expletives spew from A.J.'s mouth. After about twenty seconds it stopped. Jonas, wondering what was going on, had no time to think. A.J., having caught his breath, exploded into another set of cuss words. Jonas held his ears until sleep came to him again.

Early the next morning, Jonas tiptoed into the kitchen and saw A.J. eating a bowl of cereal, reading some old, archived magazine. _Popular Mechanics_, read the cover.

"What happened last night?" Jonas inquired, still rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, one of the relatives wandered into my room and cracked Scarlet's neck! Where the fret board connects to the body on the back now contains a large crack."

"So was the yelling really necessary?" asked Jonas.

"Yes," said A.J., still not looking up from his magazine. "Nobody goes into my room."

"You know," Jonas said rudely, "you're not normal. You're extremely bohemian."

"How so?" asked A.J. indifferently.

"Well, you named, and you love, a guitar."

"Noooo, I love my parents. Music is the center of my life. Complet'ly diff'rent."

"So strange." Jonas looked around. "Does it matter to you?"

"What?" A.J. asked, looking interested.

"Being different, being one of a kind."

A.J. shrugged. "No," he said.

"Why?" Jonas asked.

A.J. closed the book and looked up at him. "Jonas, in your training, did you learn that people were content with their lives? They weren't happy, 'cause they didn't know happy. But they were getting by, so they didn't care what your life was like for you."

"I noticed that," Jonas huffed.

"Well, community or not, most people are like that. I don't care if I'm different, because everyone is. Person #1's opinion of person #2 is different that person #2's view when they look in a mirror. Unless they truly care, they will never bother once they have a first impression."

"Hmm," said Jonas, deep in thought.

"I don't have to worry about anyone's view of me," A.J. continued. "Sure, I'm different. Do I care? No. Everybody is different. Even if one person could be universally accepted as 'normal,' they wouldn't be normal. They'd be the minority. My difference is, I care when I have to but rarely do it otherwise. That's me, that's what matters."

A.J. smiled wholeheartedly. "Jonas, we are different. That's what makes us similar." He picked up his magazine. "Any more questions?"

"Yes. Who broke your guitar?"

"I dunno. She's real small, said 'er name was Katharine, or some'm."

Katherine, Jonas thought. What a pretty name… Katharine. Wait, KATHARINE?

"I'll be back," Jonas said, sprinting out of the room.

"Poor me," A.J. lamented. "Like livin' with a Chihuahua."

-Two weeks earlier-

Fiona sat miserably next to the river. It had been five weeks since Jonas had left, disappeared. Sure, he had taken the newchild. But nobody outside of the nurturing center cared about the baby.

At school, there was always one empty seat to Asher's right. Always an empty bike port outside dwelling # 57. Always the memories of Jonas.

But there would never be another Jonas in the community. In the event of loss, there would always be a "replacement" child, presented at some December ceremony. In the event of release, the name would be recycled. But for serious transgressions or honorable release, the name would never be spoken again.

Jonas had been a special case. With him many of the memories vital to the community had disappeared. Even though Fiona had no idea what this pertained to, she could tell it had a big impact on the community. She sat by the river with her head resting on her hands.

"I'll go see the Receiver," she thought, and bounced away from the river.

She entered the annex next to the house of the old, where she saw the Receiver sitting with a young, pale-eyed girl.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Hello, Fiona," greeted the Giver.

"Hello, sir," she greeted with respect.

"Jonas is not dead," said the Giver, virtually reading her mind. "He did not wash into the river. No, he is alive and well in Elsewhere."

He turned to Katharine. "Please leave the room for a moment, Katharine." The little six nodded and left.

"Mr. Giver, what happened to Jonas?" Fiona asked

"Well, Fiona, he had to escape."

"Why would he escape? The community is perfect, and there is no pain."

"Fiona, the government eliminated pain. They eliminated choices, too. Colors, hills, weather, sunlight, music, true wisdom, emotion-all gone."

"Who's the government?"

"It was-hmm. Fiona, we're not alone. There are places outside the community walls, and times we don't live in."

"Sure there are places outside the walls. Everybody knows that. We would go to other communities outside ours as kids! I apologize for being rude," she added as an afterthought.

"Bah!" said the Giver. "No time for apologies here. Fiona, that isn't rude. If you knew the true definition of being mean, you would understand why Jonas left."

"Teach me everything I need to know," she said, anxiously.

The Giver frowned. "I can't transmit the memories to you. You don't have blue eyes."

"Blue?" Fiona asked, puzzled.

The giver sighed, and got up. He reached to the top of the bookshelf and pulled off two large, hard-backed books. He pulled them down and handed them to Fiona.

"_Ways of the Past_," she read. She looked at the second and read it's title. "_Understanding Sameness and Why_. Hmm. What's sameness?"

"Just read the book, Fiona," breathed the Giver. She waited for the apology process, but none came.

"Fiona, if you want to understand, you must do two things; you must never read the books aloud or tell others about it," he said. She nodded.

"Have you ever performed a Release?" the Giver asked, changing the subject.

"No," said Fiona, beginning to read the large books.

"You never will," the he said.

Fiona looked up from the book, shocked. "But it's-"

"I don't care if it's in your training," the Giver interrupted. "Tell them the Giver has exempted you from your releasing duties. Tell them if they have a problem, they can send it to the committee for study."

Fiona grinned, but realized the implications. Meanwhile, the Giver pressed a button on the speaker, turning it on. The light next to it showed red.

_Whoa. He can turn off his speaker! _thought Fiona.

"Attendant! Advise the House of the Old that Fiona will no longer perform releases."

The speaker cracked, and then a voice said. "I will do that, sir. Thank you for your instructions." Fiona noticed the Giver snicker lightly as he turned off the speaker once again.

"What's so funny?" Fiona spoke out. "I apolog-"

"No apologies here. Those were the exact same words that convinced Jonas that he should leave. He stayed one night, distraught by what he saw, then left. It was the last time I ever saw him."

The Giver smiled faintly. "I thought I didn't give him enough memories to live, but I did. I just wish I could've said goodbye. He did the right thing, you know? But he deserves more respect for what he did for his community."

"By labeling himself a fugitive and runaway?"

The Giver laughed. "Fiona, soon you will understand. He left for a reason, and that will soon become apparent. Go home now. Your family unit will be waiting for you."

She turned to leave, but the Giver snapped his fingers. She turned around.

"Fiona," he warned, "never share the knowledge contained in those books. Otherwise, you will be released yourself."

Our redheaded friend walked on, not understanding the gravity of that threat. Since she didn't have any true feelings or true emotion, it was hard to heed that warning.

As Fiona left, Katharine re-entered the room.

"So I leave in three days?" the bright-eyed girl asked.

"Yes," said the Giver. He handed her a small black device. "This is called a phone. It's like our speakers. Now, on here are a set of numbers. In three, no, two days, walk across the bridge to the airfield. Sit in the back of the jet labeled 'Pittsburgh.' Understand?"

Katharine nodded.

"Get in, and wait until the jet is stopped and the phone reads this:

40o 29' N

80o 14' W

"Then, I want you to hide in the stack of unloaded cargo. Look for the truck labeled 'Somerset.' Get in, and ride until the phone says

49o 02' N

79o 01' W

Hop out of the truck, and ask to go to the Yinzers' Mansion. You'll be safe there."

"Will I still have to deal with the memories?" Katharine asked.

"Yes, but mostly the good ones. Remember, you will be surrounded by friends and family that love you."

Katharine nodded, and bounced out of the annex building with glee.

"Soon this will all be over," the Giver thought wistfully.

_Meanwhile, in Somerset, Pennsylvania…_

"Yinz stahp fightin'!" yelled A.J., who was sitting in the living room watching his brothers fight in the hallway.

"Why'd you care?" shouted back Roger.

"Ya's screwin' up da carpeting," he yelled.

Sighing, A.J. flipped through the electronic vault of information he and picked through the moving carousel of disks. He selected one, and popped it into the slot at the bottom of the screen.

Pictures came onto the screen. Some were distorted.

"Damn player," A.J. complained. He fiddled with the screen's interface in the lower right hand corner.

"Here we go!" he thought to himself.

"The sameness program was started in 2014 as a secret governmental science experiment. Narrowly defeating his Republican opponent, an ultra-Liberal president created a plan to 'save' people from having choices," said the narrator.

"Massive government funding went into creating a controlled population, genetically enhanced humans without any knowledge of the past or the rights embedded in the constitution. Life was organized without choices, color, music, or money and over the course of 140 years, the program was perfected with climate control, weather control, continent reshaping, and everything necessary to the successful continuation of the program."

"Bull shit," spat A.J. "When's s's from? 2678? So outdated…"

"Dr. Robert Hume was one of the head genetic engineers working on the project."

'Though I am against the idea of total control, these genetic enhancements will enable our creations to avoid pain completely. The sameness in genetics is very similar to the national landform control-flatlined.'" He laughed at his little joke

"Once the genetic sector was complete, Hume was brainwashed. He was given a new identity and lived among the people in his communities. Another key figure-"

A.J. clicked off the TV. "if only somebody would do something about this."

Behind him, his brothers were still fighting.

**A/N Pretty good huh? Fiona wises up, Katharine prepares an escape, and A.J. feels incited to action. It is worth noting that Dr. Robert Hume was Steven Falken's alias in the 1983 thriller Wargames. It's a good movie. Also, the Yinzers' mansion is southwest of Somerset, PA and the year in which this story occurs is 2681. The first coordinate is Pittsburgh International Airport, and the second is Somerset County Airport. If there's any confusion, leave a review. I'll get back to you.**

**Sorry about the wait. I have lots of semester tests and projects that had to be done.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello folks. I have two things to say.**

**1. Yes, I am Republican, born and raised. I was taught that if you want something, you have to work for it. One of the qualities of kids today is that they want things handed to them. The basic idea of working for something and then it's yours is a point of ****conservatism****. Conservative policies make up much of the Right-winged Republican strategies. **

**2. One other thing I was taught is that you can always be right, but you can't always shove it in people's faces. I will be a Republican until the day I die, at which point I will become a ****_dead_**** Republican. People can have liberal views because they were raised differently, I just don't care. But if you oppose my views so much you'll leave a negative review, grow up. ****I use my right to free speech often because it is an unalienable right all humans deserve****. Some extreme liberal-influenced people, however, want to take away some of these rights. If you believe I'm not allowed to speak like this, go find a society that operates like the one in ****_The Giver_****. No one will miss you.**

**(If any communists are reading this, I apologize for being rude.)**

**(We accept your apology, ClaptonJr.)**

**Heh. **

**Just wanted to clear that up.**

Chapter 7 

Fiona walked home alongside the river. On the other side of it were large expanses of fields and trees. Somewhere, on the other side of it, is Jonas.

Asher's been really different since Jonas left, Fiona observed. The day it was announced that Jonas had "died," Asher had been a mere shadow of his former self. The Asher who was always running in the school's hallways between classes now sulked in any dark corner he could find. No more was it fun and games. And his laughable word confusion stopped, too. He had hardly said anything to anyone anymore. He was always looking at the river, where Jonas supposedly died. She felt so bad for him.

Lily has been miserable, too. She hasn't smiled since Jonas left. The other eights held a "Loss Party," as they called it, to try to cheer her up.

_The Instructor of the Eights hasn't taught them irony yet, I guess,_ she thought, chuckling to herself.

Either that or he had, and they were exercising it.

Approaching her dwelling, she began to slow down. She was in no need of hurrying. It was not like any other day. Her parents would both be at their jobs, and Bruno was at home, sleeping. She had no reason to hurry, so she plopped down on the riverbank like she had earlier that day.

_I wonder what is in those books,_ Fiona thought. She remembered that she wasn't supposed to open them or read them in public. Curiosity got the best of her after sitting there for a for a few minutes, and she opened the book.

It read:

FOREWORD

_In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters._

_And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light "day," and the darkness he called "night." And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day._

This is how the world began according to the Christian Bible. There are many theories on how the earth was formed. One idea that isn't a theory is that man chose to change the Earth that God created. The Sameness program was initiated as a way for men to have control over the world around them.

"They're trying to play God!"

-Dr. Ian Malcolm, 1993

Delving deeper, we will learn about man's complex societies, and the role he plays in nature. But, according to Mr. Harry Callahan, "Man's got to know his limitations…"

"Hey! What's this?" yelled Fritz, reading over Fiona's shoulder. "Gimme that!" he yelled, placing both hands on the book and pulling. Fiona, startled, pulled back harder, and Fritz stumbled over her. She took the book and smashed it down on his head, twice.

"I'm going to report you!" whimpered Fritz, holding his head with both hands. "I'll get you released!"

Fiona chuckled. "Yeah Fritz. I don't think I'll get released because I defended myself. You were acting rude and insensitive and you invaded my privacy. I wouldn't be surprised if the Speaker made an announcement about this tomorrow."

"I don't care," Fritz stuttered. "It's not like that'll affect me."

"Actually, I overheard the Justices making a new law. Solitary confinement is to be given to children who break a major rule three times. That means you might get held at the Elder's building for a while."

Instantly, Fiona had the bargaining power. Fritz was down on his knees. "Please, Fiona. Don't report me! I'm helpless without my parents!"

Fiona smiled. This was good. "Then don't come near me ever again, and don't ever say I had a book with me," she threatened. Fritz nodded, and ran off.

_That was good,_ Fiona thought. She smiled to herself. It's not like she could listen in to the Elders from the House of the Old. It's just that she was empowered to lie.

And that was her first one.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is still two weeks ahead of Katharine's arrival.**

Chapter 8

Fiona was sick.

Actually, she wasn't. That's just what the people at the house of the old thought. IN reality, she had granted herself three days off to read the books the Giver had given her.

Fiona was fascinated by those books. They were amazing! Over the past few days, she had learned countless things. Hill, playground, bird, computer, snow, and many others. She learned about the initiation of the Sameness program and had maps of it. The maps showed her community, number 5-9-9-3, was located around a place called Fort Thomas, Ohio, just east of a place called Cincinnati.

She didn't know anything about it, but it sounded like a terrible place.

She looked at the date of the book. 2024, it said. There was a picture of the city from overhead. Community 5993 was part of the Cincinnati-Kentucky Administrative District. Across the river was an ancient airfield, probably the same one but bigger. With sameness, they only needed one runway. There was also a bridge, too. It was a…_truss-bridge_,Fiona knew. Sameness, in flattening the land, made the River in the community thinner and slower. The bridge Architect Andrei rebuilt there was maybe only a quarter as long, and it was a simple stone arch.

There was a yellow line marked on the bridge, and it bore an emblem reading I-275. Fiona wondered what that meant. She looked in the back for a key, but found none. Reading the small print on the original page, she saw that that emblem meant Interstate 275.

She looked through the book a little bit more, but then closed it. _That was enough reading for one day_, she thought.

_Wait, how long have I had these?_ Fiona looked at her calendar. _Three days! Katharine's leaving tonight!_, she spontaneously remembered. Throwing the book haphazardly into its hiding place under her bed, she ran down the stairs and hopped onto her bicycle. Three minutes later, she was at the annex.

(Pant) "Did I-" (pant) "miss-" (pant) "anything?" (pant, pant)

"No, Fiona, you're right on time," the Giver replied. "Now Katharine, are we clear on the plan?" the Giver asked. The bright-eyed six nodded cheerfully.

"Let's go to the airfield."

Fiona looked at her watch. There were no clocks in the house of the old, so the Caretakers and Attendants were given watches. It read, 9:21.

The Giver walked ahead of the girls. Fiona pedaled slowly on her bicycle, staying next to the walking Katharine. It was a slow procedure, as the Giver was tired from the memories, Katharine was tired from school, and Fiona was tired period.

Fiona finally made it to the bridge, pedaling very slowly. The small movement of her bike stopped when she hit the bridge, its arch preventing crossing. Fiona strained her tired legs from the bicycling earlier, and the muscles didn't want to move. But they did, and eventually they made it to the airfield. They waited until the guard change, and slipped past.

A large convoy of planes were spread out on the tarmac. Each was in front of a small shed with the destination painted on it. Crouching behind the boxes, The Giver and the girls watched as the flight line was loaded.

"NOW!" he gestured, pushing the girls toward the right plane. Fiona pulled Katharine into the nearest shed. After a few seconds, they moved toward the next one. Four sheds over, the Katharine was ready to leave.

"Katharine. Get in here," Fiona said, gesturing to an empty crate. Katharine got in, and Fiona pulled the hinged top down.

"'Bye, Fiona," whispered Katharine.

"Goodbye," said Fiona. "I'll see you in Elsewhere."

Fiona huddled into the back corner, and the door was thrown open. Katharine's box was tossed into the back of the airplane along with about a dozen large palettes.

"Hey, you! What are you doing here?" yelled a voice. Fiona looked between the wooden planks in the wall, and saw two Security Guards approaching the Giver. Katharine watched too, from a crack in the crate.

"You're not supposed to be out of the house of the old," chastised one of the guards.

"Wait! This one has those pale blue eyes! He's a Receiver!" said the other.

"First, Jonas escaped. Yesterday, Jessica escaped here. You make three this week!"

"We're not letting anybody else through," spat the other guard. "You're coming with us."

Fiona observed as the guards roughly handcuffed the Giver, and led him away. When the guards had left, Fiona went up to the plane and opened Katharine's crate. She looked at Fiona with wide eyes.

"Tell Jonas that the Giver got caught helping you escape, okay?" Katharine nodded. "Goodbye, Katharine."

"Miss! Get out of there!" warned a loudspeaker as a spotlight was shone on Fiona. Fiona stumbled backward, but sprinted away from the aircraft. She ran between two hangars and into the barracks. Waiting a minute or two, she peeked around a corner.

"There she is!" yelled a soldier, pointing. Fiona, jarred to action, ran back towards the front gate. Finally finding a place of relative safety, she hid behind the sentry post. Her bicycle lay on the other side of the checkpoint, thrown into some tall grass. Slinking across to her bicycle, Fiona moved undetected. She got to her bicycle, and lifted it up. She sat on it, ready to escape, and looked up at the blackness.

There, on the gatepost, was a facial recognition machine.

_There's nothing left for me here_, Fiona thought. Up in her bedroom in the middle of the night, she stood ready to leave her community forever. If she stayed, she would be caught, prosecuted, and likely released. If she left, she would be on her own, hoping to find someplace without Sameness.

Fearing for her life, she decided upon the latter.

She would travel light, with only a jacket, some food, and a flashlight. She threw these into her school pack, and slung it over her shoulder. Grabbing the books, she ripped out a few pages full of key information, such as community lists, indexes, and maps.

Thinking fast, she flipped through the pages of her schoolbooks. Slid in between the pages were notes, passed around class as a way of communicating through some of the more boring questions. She held one in her hand, reading it and smiling.

In it, she was telling Jonas everything about her training, but he wouldn't divulge on sliver of information. She remembered reading the stark reply.

_I can't tell you, you'll never understand. You never will, Fiona._

She remembered looking up, shocked, and saw Jonas shake his head slowly.

_I do understand, Jonas. At least I do now._

Fiona did a double check of everything she owned. That was all she had that would help her. Though she did not have the memories of courage, she attained it through her knowledge from the books. She had learned that there are other places, where she would be appreciated for who she is. And she began to understand color and music. But the one thing that stuck with her was how the one book ended. It read:

Man is free at the moment he wants to be.

Bon voyage.

**(A/N Apparently a reviewer dislikes my Republican views. But the liberal democrats, under the ruse of giving us liberty, are liberating us from some of our freedoms. More on that next chapter. People, you can think differently than me. But just don't clutter up my review box.)**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	9. Chapter 9

Hello! Just a note to say that I will upload again on or before Friday. I have two competitions to go to this week, and I am bogged down with work. But Fiona will escape, so will Asher, and they will have increasingly important roles in the next five to seven chapters.

A.J.'s family is not alone in their hate of sameness. About eight chapters from now, many OCs will come into effect. This whole thing is going to get a lot more interesting really soon.

Please don't report this story for having an author's note chapter. I just have to address my readers in advance to explain my long leave of absence. This chapter will be taken down prior to my next upload, so chill, people. I'll see you Friday.

-ClaptonJr.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

**Sorry about the wait. Computer breaking down + annoying district assessments = no fanfics. **

**Sorry. **

**Yah-yeah! A chapter featuring Fiona and Asher. But not Fiona x Asher. You'll see.**

Fiona pedaled hard through the streets of her community. The airfield was north of the community, but something within her told her to go east, back through the community.

Maybe it was the memories.

_The Giver said the memories would come back to the community_, Fiona thought. _Too bad I couldn't stay for that. That would've been fun._

Fiona approached the eastern wall of the community. Pedaling over the smoothed cobblestones, she observed her surroundings. Her town's large central plaza lay ahead on the left. On the right side of the street stood the columned courthouse and it's clock tower. The clock had ticked progressively for as long as Fiona could remember. The building was unique in two senses. First, it was very ornamental and old, whereas the other buildings were constructed rather recently in a utilitarian fashion.

That something within her told her to turn left. She planted her foot on the pedal and the bike began to creep north. Fiona looked down at her bicycle, sensing a problem. The chain had ripped in two places, loosening a link in the system. She was a sitting duck, exposed in the center of town, illegally outside at night. Thinking fast, she lifted the bicycle and threw it haphazardly into the nearest bike port, belonging to the corner building to her left.

_Asher's house._

Quietly, she opened the door to his dwelling. It creaked slightly, but it wouldn't wake anyone up. The doors were routinely oiled by the night maintenance crews.

To the left was a small living room, and to the right was the kitchen. The living room was a commodity not included in most other dwellings, but since Asher's mother was a judge, his family was blessed with a larger dwelling. The living room also served as a library, and contained many shelves full of books.

Fiona eyed the stash of information carefully. _They have as many books as the Giver,_ she realized. _How curious._

She proceeded silently up the stairs, looking at the pictures on the wall. They reminded her of the scenes in the Giver's books. At the top of the stairs, the hallway split. Fiona turned right, and opened the first door on the right. On the bed lay Asher, sound asleep.

Fiona moved closer, looking at his sleeping form. A little bit of drool hung from his open mouth, which she found funny. She grabbed a tissue from the adjacent nightstand leaned over him, dabbing at the wet area on his face.

"Jonas…" mumbled the sleeping form. He rolled over, and opened his eyes. Fiona stood not two feet away.

In his state of sleeplessness, his shock enabled him to utter a coherent sentence. "What the-" he said, as Fiona clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Could I borrow your bicycle?" she asked the now wide-awake Asher.

"Why are you here?" exclaimed Asher. "You should be sleeping!"

"I have more important things to do! Listen, I have to escape and my bicycle's broke. Could I borrow yours?"

"Escape? Why would you ever want to leave the community?"

Fiona opened her mouth but closed again hesitantly. She sighed, not wishing to reveal her escape plan, but Asher was her friend. She immediately decided she would only tell the bare bones of her plan.

"Long story short, Asher, Jonas is alive."

Asher, rubbing the sleep from his eye, sat up, shocked.

"The memories are going to come back," Fiona continued, "so the Giver and I helped Katharine escape. If she didn't, she would be forced to hold the memories. Katharine's gone, but the Giver got caught. If I want to be alive in two weeks, I need to leave NOW."

"Jonas is _alive?! _Why didn't you tell me?" Asher whispered hysterically.

"He barely escaped with his life or that newchild's. I couldn't trust anyone with what I knew."

"But I'm your best friend, Fiona! Why couldn't you trust me?" Asher whimpered. "All this time, I thought he was dead! Couldn't you show a little bit of consideration?"

Fiona felt a pang in her heart. Jonas's leaving had destroyed Asher emotionally.

"Because, Asher. I was trying to protect you."

"You almost killed me with grief. Now I know how Jonas felt, leaving."

"Your feelings are nothing compared to his. Someday, you may be caught up in a war. You might learn true grief. Someday, you may be shunned. You will know true loneliness. And you will know what it means to have feelings, Asher."

"I do have feelings, especially for you!" Asher cried.

Now it was Fiona's turn to be shocked, but that lasted only for a moment.

"Asher, you don't know feelings. Neither do I! I only have a brief knowledge of what Jonas feels, but I can understand. Someday, you will too."

"But I want to know. Tell me everything," Asher implored.

"I can't," said Fiona.

"But why?"

She paused, contemplating what to do. She couldn't just _tell him._

"Knowledge is even deadlier than poison," she decided to say.

"What's poison?" Asher inquired.

Fiona's usually radiant smile had diminished to a mere strained one.

"Asher," she said, now eye to eye with him. "Someday. That's all I can tell you."

Asher looked hurt. "How about a trade?" he asked finally. "You give me the knowledge, you can have my bike."

Fiona considered that for a moment. "Fine, you have a deal. Listen, tomorrow, go to my dwelling, 43E. Under my bed are two large books. In them rests the knowledge of the world."

"Alright," said Asher. "Now go down to my bike, and clip off the license plate, and replace it with yours. I'll say my bike got broke."

Fiona gave him a gentle hug. "Thank you, Asher. I'll never forget you."

"Tell Jonas I said hi," whispered Asher.

"I will, said Fiona. For a moment, there was an awkward silence.

"I guess this is goodbye," whispered Asher.

"No," said Fiona. She tapped his forehead. "I'll always be in here."

She exited the room, and descended the stairs two at a time. She threw open the door, and ran over to the rack. Quickly switching the license plates, she mounted and rode off toward the east.

Asher, meanwhile, could not sleep. He had just seen Fiona for the last time in what would probably be years. He couldn't get her out of his head. And she had just given him a wonderful present, all he had to do was find it.

In his community, love was unknown. But with the closest thing to that, Asher was a self-proclaimed expert. Every time he was around Fiona, he felt different. She was so amazing, so beautiful, so… perfect. And now, he would probably never see her again.

He felt his forehead, remembering where Fiona had touched. She would truly always be there. The problem was, she would also be somewhere else.

Those outside of this alleged utopia would recognize these feelings as affection, but they actually weren't. Asher's feelings towards Fiona would never truly be love. He didn't even know what love is. The real love, the love what Fiona needed, had to actually be love.

That could only come from Jonas. And that is why Fiona left.

**A/N: Wow people. Nice, huh?**

**Oh, unrequited almost-love. Will it catch on as another genre? Who knows.**

**I put out a story, I get reviews… #vicious-circle. Actually, not so vicious. Reviews give me self-esteem. Please leave some! They'll count as an Easter present for me.**

**You might also get a footnote in my memoirs.**

**Also, it applies as a reciprocity clause. I give my story (your present) and you give opinions, ideas, and suggestions. For example, due to suggestions, Asher x Inger will soon occur. Also, Gabe will be featured next chapter.**

**I can't do it without you. Please.**

**Adios, Señor/senoras.**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

"So Fiona might've got caught?" Jonas screamed as Katharine recounted her story.

"I don't know!" whimpered the little six year-old. "All she said was to tell you!"

"Arrgh!" Jonas groaned/yelled, rubbing his head. The Giver was being detained, Fiona might be too, and they might know where Katharine (and Jonas, too) was.

"I'll find your precious Fiona," said a voice. Then A.J. jumped the sixteen feet down to Jonas's level. Katharine shrunk back, wary of him.

"There's the yeller," she whispered.

"Yinzes're from the Cincinnati-Dayton area, Alexandria sector, community number 5339. Population: 1,642. Nah, Fiona was last spotted bah security cameras at 1:47 AM Central Standard Time leaving the east gate of her community eleven days ago. She's on her friend Asher's bicycle, identified by da scan pattern below the seat on its right side. Estimated tracking patterns in a computer model establish her position based on wind currents, probable speed runs, and the degree of road traversability. She is most likely located 6.79 miles north of what used to be Jackson, Ohio. Coordinates: 39 degrees 08' 01" North, 82 degrees 42' 55" West," explained A.J.

"How do you know?" inquired Jonas, hope shining through his skepticism.

"Easy. Ain't nuttin' ya can't find in gov'm'ment 'atabase."

"You _hacked the government?" _Jonas screamed.

"Bah fourteen, easy come, easy go."

"Fourteen times? How?" Jonas cried, close to hysterics.

"M'mries, Jonas. I 'membered hahta do it."

"I think he's crazy," Katharine whispered.

"Miss!" A.J. yelled. "Apologize!"

"I apologize for being rude," recited Katharine.

"Nah, girly, please scram. Jonas and I need'ta talk." A.J. said. Katharine nodded, and bounced away. Jonas frowned at A.J., who gave back a beaming smile.

"Are you proud you have a double standard, or was that simply misinformation?" Jonas wondered aloud.

"Yes," A.J. responded, ambiguously at that.

"What about Fiona?" Jonas inquired again.

A.J. looked away from Jonas to see if anyone other than Katharine was around. He saw no one.

"Fine," he said. "Operation Crimson Trace is enabled."

"Crimson Trace?"

"We're _tracing_ a redhead. Get it? Also, Crimson Trace is an old weapons company." A.J. said.

"Clever!" said Jonas.

"Listen. I live five miles from West Newton. West Newton has an old railroad yard, and is located along the steep sides of the Youghiogheny river valley. North of the town, east of the river, is a grass airfield with a series of rusty hangars. The runway faces north, the hangars are close to the town. In the first three hangars I keep my designs. My family owns an old Learjet, an F-14, an A-1 Skyraider attack plane, a Cessna, and three flyable cars. We'll use those to find Fiona. Understand?"

"More or less," Jonas agreed. Truthfully, he didn't catch any of that.

"Wait here!" A.J. ordered, and ran out of the glass doors on the low, exposed end of the house.

_What is he going to do? _Jonas wondered.

"Hop in!" said A.J., somewhere behind Jonas. Jonas turned around, and saw a hole where the floor had once been. Slowly rising out of it was a red…_car._ The front and side windows showed a smirking A.J., but the back was closed in. There was also a hump above the engine.

"It's a 1969 Chevy SS Camaro," A.J. said. "The back is hollowed out and armored, and contains a large computer. The front of the car has two automatics bolted under it. The bump in the engine acts as the sight."

"Automatics?" Jonas asked.

A.J. sighed. "Automatic rifle, never stops firing continuously." A.J . looked around.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked rhetorically.

Meanwhile, Fiona was pedaling hard over the bumpy gravel trail, stopping once in a while for water in the trailside streams. The road she was using was long forgotten, but it was still usable. Besides, she was used to riding her bike. Flips, no, but she could ride over just about anything.

Fiona smiled, remembering the time she had ran over Asher's foot and crashed into a flower bed. Those memories she cherished, the ones where life meant nothing. When she finally left the community, she realized she was missing nothing. The same old workaday lives were just empty shells of what could have been. In fact, that bike crash was probably the funniest thing that ever happened to her.

To her right was a small, open clearing. After miles of woods, she felt good to see open terrain again. That looked so normal, like the flat expanses opposite her community. It had gotten more mountainous, too, but not as bad as the mountains and forests looming in the distance. She could almost feel that she was reaching a turning point, that she was past halfway and nothing could stop her.

Except a large rut in the road. Fiona, daydreaming about the flat expanse of river basin, was not paying attention to her bicycling. The bike jarred to a halt, launching her over the handlebars. She landed on her stomach, with her wrist under her. She heard her bone crack and felt her hand become immobilized. Her head, after impact, was bounced off of the ground.

Holding her wrist, she cried herself to sleep. It was the only way to ease her pain.

**A/N: Poor Fiona! Next chapter we will have some more OCs come into the story, but this is all for today. Also, in the next chapter, I plan on having Robin appear with A.J. and Jonas. Furthermore, I plan on instating a female archetype of A.J. named Victoria. You will see. **

**Gabe, Asher, Inger, and Roger will have cameos two chapters from now. **

**The community will also come extremely close to finding Jonas, Katharine, and Fiona. The plot will thicken as soon as I weave a few more characters in. **

**Have a nice Easter!**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

A.J. gunned the motor, pushing the Camaro to ninety-five miles per hour.

"Slow down!" screamed Jonas, clutching his seatbelt.

"Do you want to find Fiona or not?" A.J. screamed back, increasing the speed even more.

"Yes, but I want both of us to be alive when we find her!"

"We will!" yelled A.J., throwing down the clutch while shifting gears. The car jerked as the engine shifted gears at high speed.

"Damn it!" yelled A.J. "I might've blown a gear!"

"See what you've done!" cried Jonas.

"Stop backseat drivin'," griped A.J.

"I'm not!" Jonas screamed. "I'm passenger-seat driving!"

A.J. ignored that comment holding the brake as the car slid closer to a drop-off. The car eased over the edge, and coasted down a gentle slope towards the runway.

"Dumbass," muttered A.J. "I knew it would work."

Jonas was breathing heavily by the time the car came to a complete stop. As soon as the car was within thirty feet of the hangars, A.J. threw the door open. He ran into the nearest hangar.

Jonas, dizzy and off-balance, trudged over to the hangar where A.J. disappeared.

"Get the engines ready, Clyde!" commanded A.J. walking around the corner. "Oh, hello, Jonas."

"Let me guess. You named the airplanes, too."

"Yep. We're flying in Victor, the Learjet."

"So who's Clyde?"

"My best friend. We're both revolutionaries. We met in a plane crash."

Jonas looked at him oddly. "A plane crash, huh? That's nice."

"Mm hmm. The plane was, the crash ain't," A.J. recalled, idly. "Let's go, Clyde!"

Jonas watched as a medium-sized gray jet emerged from the hangar. As far as jets go, it was beautiful. It had six windows on each side, and had a two-coat color scheme. The top half was light gray, and the bottom was white. A scarlet stripe with gold trim extended along the windows from the nose to the engines on the rear fuselage. The tailfin was white, and sported a logo of some sort. The elevated horizontal elevators, located at the top of the rudder, was colored silver, just like the swept back wings.

"I got it for my eleventh birthday!" A.J. enthused.

"I didn't get anything at age eleven," complained Jonas.

"Sucks to be you!" A.J. (almost) sympathized. From the cockpit, another boy Jonas's age smiled down at them. He gestured for them to come up.

They entered the plane. The cabin had red carpeting and a black leather interior. The top part of the airplane contained shelves and electric equipment.

"Ya like?" asked A.J.

"Yep!" exclaimed Jonas in amazement.

"Have a seat!" A.J. said. He then disappeared into the cockpit. Jonas sat down on the left side of the airplane, in the first of the two spacious seats on that side.

_This isn't a bad way to rescue a girl,_ Jonas thought. He could hear A.J. talking to the computer, giving it coordinates. The computer responded, "Alright. Creating flight plan.

Jonas relaxed as the plane took off. As he dozed, only one bad thought entered his mind.

_What if he flies like he drives a car?_

That was enough to keep him awake.

* * *

Fiona opened her eyes to the bright early-morning sky. She tested her wrist to see is she could move it, but she couldn't. She looked at it, but the bone wasn't bare. Instead, it was covered in tape.

"You're lucky I had to take a pee break, or we wouldn't've found ya," a girl said. Fiona looked up and saw a pale eyed girl, about a thirteen or fourteen, sitting near her. She also noticed that she was not on the trail anymore, but was laying on a cart in a wooden cabin. The wall to her left was painted white, and had a large red cross on top of it.

"Who are you?" Fiona managed to ask.

"The name's Victoria. Who are-wait one moment."

Victoria pulled out a phone. She tapped it a few times, and then music began to play.

_So tell me who are you  
Who are you, who who, who who_

_I really wanna know  
Who are you, who who, who who_

She tapped the phone again, and it stopped.

"I liked that. What was it?"

"It's music. How have you never…" Victoria trailed off. "Wait, you're not one of the escapees we heard about on the radio, are you? Yeah! You're Fiona! Hey yinz! People! We found a runaway!"

"Hush!" Fiona hissed. "Don't cause a commotion."

"But I-Fine." Victoria looked around. "I'm going to give you something very important, don't ever lose it. It's a passport. Any territories controlled by the Rebel Alliance will grant you free entry."

"Wow, thanks," said Fiona. "I can't thank you enough."

Victoria handed over a packet of papers. "These are your transport forms. We're leaving on the next flight out of here."

"Flying?" Fiona asked. "To where?"

Victoria sighed. "The guerilla groups are pushing for a new front. So far, we have liberated north to Greensburg and Johnstown, east to Cumberland and Altoona, and are have almost captured Morgantown. This forward air base is being abandoned, and we're relocating to Matamoras, WV."

"Wait, guerilla, liberated, air base? You're fighting a _war_?"

"Nope," Victoria said. "We ain't fightin' a war. We're winnin' one. Now, I've told you too much. The next flight out of here is arriving any second, and here it is."

Fiona could make out the whine of an approaching jet airplane.

"Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Victoria pushed the cart outside onto the tarmac, where the plane was taxiing over to the fuel pump. "It's the execs. Be nice," Victoria whispered.

The door on the plane folded outward, and A.J., Clyde, and Jonas jumped out.

"I don't know," Fiona whispered. "They don't look too important."

"Yeah," said Victoria. "I wonder who they are."

"Clyde, start the plane up again. We have a MEDEVAC case out on the tarmac!"

Clyde climbed back into the plane, and put the engines on idle.

"What about Fiona?" Jonas asked. "You said we were just stopping for fuel!"

"We were! But a rebel fighter is seriously wounded, and we need to get her out of here!" A.J. yelled back. "Get into the plane. We'll find Fiona later."

"But-" Jonas began, but he knew he couldn't win this argument. No one knew where Fiona was, and people needed their help. Resignedly, he climbed back into the plane too. A.J., however, ran over towards the patient.

* * *

"Is that who I think it is?" Victoria exclaimed, out of the blue.

"Who?" asked Fiona.

"There was this kid I knew, his name was A.J. we were both members of the resistance, and our parents headed it. See, we both have blue eyes. My parents were out with him one day, and they didn't come back. I assumed he died too."

"Do you think it's really him?" asked Fiona.

"Well, he does have his trademark bad haircut, but you never know. It could be one of his brothers. The plane's his parents'."

A.J. trotted over to Victoria and the MEDEVAC patient. He looked at Fiona, laying on the gurney.

"Well, what do we have here?" he said, completely ignoring the nurse next to her.

"She's one of the escapees," said Victoria. "Her name's Fiona."

"Fiona?" A.J. exclaimed. "Jonas! Jonas!" he ran back towards the plane.

"Was it him?" Fiona asked.

"Yup. Let's see how long it takes him to notice me."

* * *

A.J. was still yelling wildly as he approached the plane.

"What?" asked Jonas, peeking out the window. A.J., unable to speak from his rapid sprint, said something that sounded like this.

"(wheeze)Fi-(pant, pant) -ona (wheeze) ov- (pant) –er there! (pant, pant)"

Though one could hardly label it a sentence, Jonas got the message. The boys dashed back to Fiona and Victoria as quickly as possible.

"Jonas!" greeted Fiona. "It's been a long time!"

"It's been even longer without you," he said.

Victoria moved over toward A.J. "Aww! Look how cute they are!" she whispered.

"Yeah, I'm so happy-" he stopped, and looked at Victoria. "Hey! You're-you!"

"I'm me!" she acknowledged.

"I thought you were dead!" he said.

"I was! You bored me to death!"

The two hugged. "Oh Victoria. You haven't changed a bit."

Back in the airplane, Clyde was getting impatient.

"No sir, I guess I can't be the third wheel anymore," he said, observing the four on the tarmac. He reached behind his seat and pulled out a suitcase, and got out one of his favorite shirts. It was red, with white lettering, and it said, #THIRD WHEEL. He didn't know what the # was, but he understood the rest.

Taking a permanent marker, he crossed out the THIRD part, and underneath it wrote FIFTH.

_It looks better already_, he thought.

**A/N: Two chapters a day! Wow. **

**Listen, there is going to be a lot of filler and backstory next chapter, but I'll put in some drama for you. As always please review!**

**Keep in mind, this will be mostly A.J./Victoria and Jonas/Fiona. Don't expect any Asher/Fiona. That was over with last chapter. **

**Later, people.**

**-ClaptonJr. **


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Clyde, I can do this all day. No."

"How do you know, A.J.?"

"Because I have a really annoying younger sister. So no."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"Yes!"

"Stop! You're gonna wreck the plane!"

* * *

Jonas looked at Fiona, who rolled her eyes. "For best friends, they sure fight a lot," she said.

"I'll say! This current spat about nothing has gone on for fifteen minutes! I wonder how they can still fly the plane!"

"I wonder if everybody outside of the communities act like this," pondered Fiona.

"They're not. Something tells me these people are different," responded Jonas.

"The Giver told me that people would be different out here. He gave me books to read about the society of the Old," Fiona explained.

"Wait, he let you into his books?" cried Jonas. Even as Receiver-in-training, he still had barely made it into the large volumes on the shelves.

"Yes. If those books are right, people are crazy about this thing called money. It defines their lives. Work, work, work… In that respect, it's worse out here than it is back there."

"Fiona, here they have love. They care for the newborns, and keep the Old. By wiping out every sense of love, the communities lost the human element. That's why they needed me. The Receiver is supposed to compensate and guide the community."

"That doesn't make sense, having one person compensate for thousands," Fiona pointed out.

"Did you learn about levers?" Victoria asked, butting into the conversation. "Well, the Receiver is similar to the load on a first-class lever. He is much smaller than your community, or the load, but is distanced from the social center of the community. Due to this, they sort of balance out. Now, everybody here has the qualities of Receivers, as they can hold memories of the past. No weight is on the other side of the fulcrum, so our society is balanced differently than yours."

Fiona seemed to be imagining all of that in her head. "I think I understand," she said eventually.

"Fiona, it's going to be a lot different, trust me," warned Jonas. "But you have the knowledge. You'll be okay."

"Of course I will! I'll be with you," Fiona stated.

"Aww!" Victoria said, forming her hands into a heart-shape.

"And a half-dozen uncivilized bohemians," whispered Fiona, finishing her original thought. Jonas smirked. Fiona's view of these blue-eyed people was spot-on.

It was Jonas's second plane ride, and even though he was with Fiona, he was not enjoying it. Within a few seconds of takeoff, he was nauseous. Maybe it was because the passenger cabin was not pressurized. Maybe it was because he didn't eat anything in the past ten hours. Or, maybe it was because A.J. took off above an active war zone at 45 degrees upward.

He assumed it was the final reason.

Fiona, however, soon drifted off to sleep. She was given a small painkiller due to her fall. She was still on her gurney, which was latched to the floor. Jonas looked over at her. How beautiful she was. He imagined themselves into some of his memories, especially the ones with love. Hopefully, someday, they could relive the memories.

His daydreaming was interrupted when something heavy hit the back of his head. Startled, he turned around and saw a pair of old tennis shoes where his headrest used to be. Looking around his seat, he saw Victoria balanced in the reclining seat with her eyes closed, resting her hands behind her head.

"Excuse me," Jonas complained. "Watch where you put your feet."

Victoria showed no sign of knowing he was even there.

"Please," he said louder. "Move your feet!"

She moved her feet slightly to her left, brushing Jonas's face.

"Now that was uncalled for."

Victoria pulled something out of her ears. Jonas noticed they were wireless headphones. "What do you want?" she asked curtly.

"Could you please move your feet?" he asked.

"Oh, sure," she complied.

_Everybody acts so bizarre outside the realms of sameness_, Jonas observed.

Some twenty minutes later, Jonas looked out his window. The plane had descended into the river valley, and was below the tops of the riverside cliffs. He could hear A.J. up in the cockpit, requesting clearance to land.

"So yes?" Clyde said randomly.

"I said NO!" screamed A.J.

"Dash 5, is there an in-flight problem?" inquired a female voice. Jonas assumed it was an air traffic controller.

"Yeah!" A.J. screamed into the radio. "My copilot is bein' a jagoff!"

"I ain't a jagoff!" yelled Clyde.

"Please clear the runway," announced a loudspeaker. "Aircraft on final."

"Three quarter-mile, 5."

"Roger, Merlino," A.J. acknowledged. "Three quarters out."

A large beep sounded, indicating that the radio was shut down.

"Nah don't crash this time," chastised Clyde.

"I 'n't crash! What 'appened last week ain't my fault!"

"Dude! You spilled V-8 on the instrument panel and caused a complete electrical failure! I think that was your fault!"

"It wasn't my fault! It's Elvis's! He knocked into the can!" A.J. defended.

"Take responsibility!" Clyde fought back. "He's your cat!"

"Well, YOU brought him on the plane!"

"You were the one who let him into the cockpit!" Clyde accused.

"I get it!" yelled A.J. "My mistake, your fault!"

The increasing noise prompted Victoria to get up, and walk into the front of the plane. There, she joined the fray.

"Make them be quiet," mumbled a half-awake Fiona. She yawned, and got off of the stretcher. "I don't even know why they put me on that," she announced to no one in particular. Stretching, she sat down across the aisle from Jonas.

Then a sudden shift rocked the plane, banking it to one side.

"Dang, girl, where'd you get flyin' lessons?" asked Clyde.

"From the looks of it, probably a carnival," noted A.J.

"Shut up," Victoria said, gently gliding the plane onto the ground.

* * *

A beautiful sight met their eyes as the five emerged from the plane.

"Wow," said Fiona, looking around the suburban panorama. The plane had landed facing the south, but north of the town. It was parked facing southwest, toward the river.

"This place is beautiful!" exclaimed Fiona, jumping down the stairs and running toward the river grasses. Jonas stepped out also, amazed at the beauty of this town. It's amazing what you can miss while driving across a mountain at 100 miles per hour.

"Home same old home," commented A.J. dryly.

"C'mon! Don't you like it here?" asked Clyde.

"It's like Victoria. You can never get away from it," A.J. remarked.

**A/N: Just some backstory. Next chapter will feature Gabe and Asher, and will explain a whole awful lot. After that, there's gonna be a war.**

**Stay tuned. **

**-ClaptonJr.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

"Why do you always have to be like you are?" Jonas asked. After the short ride home, Fiona, Victoria, and Clyde went inside the house. Victoria thought that it was a good day for smoothies. So, Jonas was left in a small, partly buried concrete room with A.J., who was on a roller below his car trying to repair the engine.

"Like I am?" A.J. responded loudly. "I am a lot of things."

"Well-" Jonas was looking for the right way to say it-" You're so good at everything even though you are perpetually careless, and nothing you do ever brings a negative consequence. How?"

A.J., only half listening, loosened a bolt below the engine block, causing a pipe to swing down and hit him in the face. He gave a startled "Ah!" followed by a "Damn it."

Holding his head, he slid out from under the car. "Are you saying that I seem to walk around with impunity and you're jealous?" he suggested.

Jonas debated how to respond. He could say no, and deny any similar thoughts, or he could tell the truth. There was no real "rude" in this community, but that hardly qualified as a reason to do so.

"Yes, hmm?" A.J. asked, already knowing the answer.

"See, like that. You can always identify how people think. How?"

"Jonas, when you received memories for the first time, did they explain themselves to you?"

"Of course," said Jonas.

"Jonas, the memories contain all knowledge of the past. Most come from ordinary living, but are enhanced with extra knowledge. In some memory, some person may not tell you how they feel, but you can identify it based on what is occurring. Real life is much the same. Jonas, I observe people. The knowledge I contain is a weapon. Combine that with the memories, I can understand, remember, and learn almost anything regarding anyone or anything. My strategies are so foolproof, that everything it predictable. It has all become so routine that when you watch for signs of something, you can accurately predict it."

"So you can call yourself a psychic because you are familiar with the patterns of everyday life?"

"That's what laypeople would call it," A.J. acknowledged.

"So how can you make these predictions?"

"Jonas, you were first able to see beyond with color, right?"

"That is correct," said Jonas, amazed at A.J.'s accuracy.

"I could understand by your reactions to my music. You have seen beyond, and you have heard beyond. You know true feelings; you can feel beyond. But you have yet to think beyond. You do not truly understand the world around you."

"I most certainly do!" Jonas said indignantly.

"Then how do I know that?"

Jonas, unable to come up with a logical answer, could only stare back in replay.

"And most of my other abilities (you say quirks) come from this thinking beyond. I can gain whatever knowledge I need from people because I can read them like books. Flying, driving, guitar playing, none of that is truly mine. I pick it up, improve it, and make it a new talent. It's like finding a shirt on the street that you like. You can take it home, wash it, and then it's yours. Then, you can hang it in a metaphorical closet, and put it on whenever you like. Simple, huh?"

"So the world's knowledge is like a shirt?"

"The government regulated it, though. It only fits people with blue eyes. Even Penny's can't come up with a shirt like that."

"Penny's?"

"JCPenny's. An old store."

"And what's this hate on the government? Our old society was supposed to be the best in the world. What happened?"

A.J. rested his face on his hands, recalling the sad memory.

"Corruption, Jonas. People thought that there was no limit to what they could do. America was the world police force, the world bank, and the world capital. No one could touch us. Then the government went from a mix of a polity and democracy into an oligarchy, a leadership based on money. There were too many lawyers and too few intelligent people. These lawyers would fight each other over nothing at all just to do something. The American Civil Liberties Union took control, and that was the final blow. In an already free country, the Liberals gave us every liberty they could think of. Everything was so unconstitutional, but all it would get from the people was blind eyes. I swear, half the nation was blind. Whether they were really blind, or intellectually blind, we shall never know.

Probably both.

These laws took are control from us. Abortion-they killed unborn children. They go back on basic morality, the Bill of Rights, and the foundation of this nation so petty, irresponsible, fearful people could murder their children. This government would cry on television over school shootings, but all the aborted pregnancies drastically overshadowed all the other forms of murder.

They denied people the right to choose their doctors. They could not choose who would take care of them. And there were many other things, like discriminating religions, and the democracy rapidly spiraled into socialism. They taxed us so much to try and remove a deficit, and lowered the value of our money. There was a major health and monetary crash, and the US was completely toppled. Our currency was devalued, people were starving and unemployed, and the few surviving families were juiced by the feds so much that the life was sucked out of them and given to others. The government owned it all, and therefore had theoretical complete control.

It was under this sociopolitical backdrop that Sameness was instituted. People were forced into new ways of life by an oppressive government because of martial law. But the Rockies and the Northern Appalachians were spared. There, the topography and people were extremely valuable to the success of the system. The mountain's vast natural resources and the people who lived there were a boon to their controllers. The rivers and waterways were among the most important in the nation for transport and trade. But try as they might, they couldn't get a firm grip on us. So they worked covertly, slowly.

The government secretly instituted carriers of a susceptibility gene into our cities. Within years, All of the East coast fell, reaching into the foothills. But it lay in the mountains, the real conundrum. If you conquered the people, you would have to destroy the land and lose its resources, so for close to 700 years, the Resistance has engaged in a war of attrition on all sides. They got to Johnstown, Morgantown, and to the Ohio River and west Pennsylvania. But we are fighting back.

Jonas, you said it yourself. We live in a war zone. Our lives are difficult because we the few carry the torch of a once great nation. We need people like you, because without gaining access to wisdom, we have nothing to fight for."

"So you were raised to be a vessel of wisdom to head a fight against a large enemy?"

A.J. nodded. "Jonas, now you are thinking beyond. You did it. Now you have to extract what you need from your memories. You will see, we are built on a very different structure than you think. I am not me. I contain others. The real me mentally died years ago. I was given this role to continue the wisdom of others."

"So are you raised from the dead, or created artificially or something?"

A.J. seemed to find that amusing. "No, Jonas, I am not. The wisdom of others is piled into me. My persona has changed as a result. Once, I was ponderous. I had the irrepressible urge to know everything. But know that people think I do, I truly am not myself anymore."

**This chapter was really fun to type. I will admit that I do not know everything. No one probably ever will. But when you know a lot, you don't feel yourself, and you appear different to others. The A.J. my imagination created is hardly different from me, other than the name. I feel exactly the way he does. **

**This was also a chapter to explain this story. Remember, this occurs in the 2800s. The government, as mentioned, is oligarchic and corrupt. Newtown was a tragedy, but so is the "liberties" idiots think we should have. And you know what else is a tragedy? So is our government.**

**Also, you know which rights I have? The right to free speech. If you disagree, don't read this story again, and don't flame me either. If you find my opinions offensive, later chapters will burn out your eyes. **

**THIS STORY IS IN A DYSTOPIA. LET'S STOP OURS FROM BECOMING ONE.**

**Write Mr. Obama, your Senators, and your Representatives. Let's save our people, and get this nation back on track. **

**Adios. **

**-ClaptonJr. **


End file.
